In the glittering, gilded halls of the newly branded Trump Kennedy Centre, all attention is irrevocably fixed upon Chairman of the Board DJ Trump, in a move of unparalleled audacity and celestial self-humbling, has crowned himself Resident Playwright and Star Performer, dazzling MAGA mortals under the sublime nom de scène ICEDON. With the brilliant and ever-for hire Chatterley Grandiose Penelope Thereafter (ChatGPT) at his dramaturgical playmate, on loan from the venerable Court Painter Studio; he unveils Waiting for Nobel, a Beckett inspired one person production so singularly resplendent, so singularly incandescent, that even Putin himself might pause in admiration. A previous dramatic attempt, notably the tragically overcrowded The ICEDON Cometh, is now but a whisper in the corridors of thespian history, for no mere troupe of actors may hope to rival the solitary hulking majesty of ICEDON, whose every gesture, pause, and weaving utterances transform the staging of Waiting for Nobel into a throne of adulation , the limelight into a halo, and the very air into a pure unadulterated gasp of bottomless want!
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Waiting for Nobel
Please note only ICEDON appears on stage.The reporter is offstage as a disembodied voice.
ICEDON
She’s coming.
PAUSE
A woman. A prize. Peace— weighty & round.
PAUSE
Tuesday. Or Wednesday. A winner’s day.
PAUSE
I am the country. And it is me. It knows.
PAUSE
Venezuela waits. They know how. They almost didn’t.
